


Sanctuary

by Inell



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Jealous Derek, Kissing, Lorne from Angel has a cameo, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Pansexual Stiles Stilinski, Past Braeden/Derek Hale, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Post-Canon, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, Stiles dances while singing karaoke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Derek are sent to San Francisco to meet with a couple of people to get information on the latest supernatural threat in Beacon Hills. Along the way, there is pining, demon karaoke, a dash of jealousy, an old motel, and the movement from friends to lovers that they've both wanted for a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitty_fic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitty_fic/gifts).



> For Invisikitty's prompt: Ooh! If you're still taking Teen Wolf prompts how about either Stiles/Derek or Stiles/Derek/Scott - must share a motel room with only one bed. The floor is disgusting and there’s no cots or couches.
> 
> I had tons of fun writing this one. I hope you enjoy it, hon!

The drive from Beacon Hills to San Francisco seems to be taking even longer than usual today. Derek is driving, so that means Stiles can’t fiddle with the radio or play anything off his phone to pass the time. There’s some station playing old rock that always seems to accompany movie soundtracks and television commercials. It reminds him of his mom, singing along to the music of her youth as she baked, twirling him around until he was a giggling dizzy mess with the faster tunes. The memories make him smile, and there’s only a little sadness thinking about the past. It does make him quieter, though, so Derek keeps looking at him and frowning. 

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or just wait until we get there?” he finally asks after the fourteenth frown from Derek.

“I already told you. It’s a place where we should be able to get the information we need,” Derek says, as if that actually answered the question.

“That doesn’t tell me anything, you realize?” Stiles rolls his eyes when he notices Derek’s slight smile. “Of course you realize.”

“Braeden set it all up, Stiles. I’ve never been there. I just heard about it when I was told to make this trip.”

“Yeah, well, I trust Brae because she’s my bae, but I don’t know why you refuse to give me any more details. I bet _Scott_ knows details.”

“Of course he does. He’s the alpha. We wouldn’t be doing this if he hadn’t approved it.” Derek glances at him. “And stop calling Braeden your bae.”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s the alpha and we do whatever he says because when you try pointing out that you don’t want to spend an entire afternoon and evening driving to San Francisco and back he just gives you the puppy dog eyes and you end up giving in without even asking what you’re supposed to be doing there.” Stiles hmphs because he knows he could have resisted the puppy dog eyes if he’d had any idea that it was going to be him and Derek alone in a car for that long. Well, he’d have at least tried to resist. “Anyway, Braeden likes it. She hasn’t shot met yet when I say it, at least, which is a form of approval. Don’t be jealous, dude. I’m not a threat to your whole twisted relationship with her.”

“My relationship with Braeden isn’t twisted. We’re just friends.” Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m not jealous. She’s free to be with anyone she wants. She deserves to be happy, and so do you. And don’t call me dude.”

“Friends with benefits.” Stiles waggles his eyebrows. So, sure, Derek is hugely responsible for his whole pansexual awakening, and he’s had a bit of a crush for years, but that doesn’t mean he can’t recognize the hotness that is Braeden and Derek together. Okay, so his recognition often includes envy and jealousy and the desire to be in the middle of all that. He can’t blame Braeden for hooking up with Derek, who is awesome and gorgeous and smart and caring and, yeah, maybe the crush isn’t so small. “Don’t worry, _dude_. Brae might be my bae, but she isn’t wanting all this.”

“You’d be surprised.” Derek snorts and shakes his head. “Braeden and I haven’t had any benefits for over a year. I told you when I moved back that we’re just friends.”

“Well, yeah, but we assumed the physical stuff was still happening when she stays in town.” Stiles shifts in his seat and stares at Derek’s profile. “Is that why you finally came back? If not, what was it?”

Derek sighs. “I’m really proud that it’s taken you nearly eighteen months to actually ask that question.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not a teenager anymore. I can be patient.” Stiles smiles wryly. “And Scott told me to leave you alone and not ask nosy questions. There might have been some threatening involving my anatomy mentioned if I pissed you off or made you leave again.”

“You _just_ turned twenty,” Derek reminds him. “Not a teenager for a few months doesn’t necessarily mean that much. I’m still surprised you managed to last this long.”

“Scott can be scary when he does the whole alpha thing.” Stiles grins. “Nah, not really, but I figured it was nice to have you back, so why risk annoying you until you left again? Scott’s glad to have you here, and he needs the support now that the pack is scattered around for college and shit. I might be an asshole, but I’m not stupid.”

“No, you definitely aren’t stupid.” Derek’s agreement is surprising because it’s almost a compliment. “I came back because I missed my pack. I’d had time to deal with most of my issues, and it was time to stop running. We should be there soon, and it won’t take that long. We’re just meeting them at a bar.”

The fact that Derek actually gave him an honest answer makes it difficult to tease him for missing them, so Stiles lets it go. “Oh! Details finally.” Stiles taps his fingers against his knee. “It’s a Braeden approved bar?”

Derek nods. “Yes, she’s used it for business meetings before, and she says it’s safe.”

“So, these people we’re meeting, they’re going to have intel about whatever it is killing people back home? Because I really want to know what the fuck that thing is and why it only targets hot guys.” Stiles makes a face. “I still think it’s some kind of succubus, but who listens to me? I’m only the research guy with the entire bestiary at my fingertips.”

“The MO for a succubus isn’t usually as messy as these crime scenes, and they don’t have a reputation for eating parts of their victims.” Derek shudders. “Whatever’s doing this is violent and blood thirsty without any traceable scent.”

“I saw the photos on Dad’s computer. I couldn’t find anything in the bestiary that’s known to enjoy eating dick. Literally eating dick, that is.” Stiles cringes in sympathy and hopes the guys are dead before that bit happens. “I still think there’s credibility to my theory, though. The targets are all attractive men in their thirties and early forties. They’ve been last seen in social places like restaurants and bars, where someone might have been able to pick them up easily, and there’s been some evidence of semen found mixed in with blood on their groin, even if only one has been a good enough sample for any DNA.”

Derek just stares at him, a slight smile on his lips as he looks away when he notices Stiles looking at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Derek shrugs. “It’s just, you’re going to make a good cop. Even if you’re wrong that it’s a succubus.”

“Let’s wait to see what these contacts say before you get too smug, dude. I still might be right.” Stiles lightly punches Derek’s arm. “Succubus gone wild or something.”

“Or something.” Derek is paying more attention to the streets now that they’ve reached San Francisco. Traffic sucks, of course, and it makes Stiles glad he chose to just stay in Beacon Hills for college instead of accepting the offer from Berkeley. He’s planning to work for the sheriff’s department, so he doesn’t even have to have a degree, but it’s the compromise he and his dad worked out when he insisted he wanted to be a cop despite his dad’s reservations. Seriously, though, after the shit he’s had to deal with since Scott got bitten, being a cop isn’t really that dangerous in comparison.

“Do you need me to GPS something?” Stiles asks as they drive through a rather rundown and rough looking neighborhood. Since it’s a bar Braeden suggested, they probably aren’t actually lost, after all.

“The parking garage should be just up here. Braeden told me this place is pretty well secured so you have to know where it is to even find it. I didn’t believe it would be this well-hidden, though.” Derek slows down even more and actually flashes a smile when he triumphantly turns into a driveway. They get their ticket, and Stiles feels an odd tingle rush through him as they drive further into the garage. Derek’s eyes flash blue, and his face shifts. “What the fuck?”

“You felt it, too?” Stiles isn’t sure what’s happening, but he knows Braeden isn’t going to put them at risk. “Calm down. Braeden isn’t going to send us somewhere dangerous without any warning.”

“If these informants can’t be trusted, it might be a set up.” Derek pulls into a parking spot and looks at Stiles. “I don’t like it. That was some weird kind of magic. We should just leave.”

“We didn’t drive all the way here to let a little tingling scare us away.” Stiles is already texting Braeden, wanting to find out whether this is legit or not. His phone quickly buzzes with an incoming text from Brae my Bae. “Oh. Huh. Wow. I didn’t realize places like this really existed.”

“What?” Derek’s almost growls and looks like he wants to snatch the phone out of Stiles’ hand.

“She says it’s a sanctuary. A safe place for everyone who visits. No weapons, no death, no one can come in if they’re violent, blah blah blah.” Stiles grins. “Sounds fun. Let’s go.”

“Give me that.” Derek swipes the phone from Stiles and his eyebrows do an angry dance as he types in a message. Several messages are passed between him and Braeden before he rubs the bridge of his nose. “She failed to mention that this place is open to demons and hunters as well as more harmless supernatural creatures. I never would have agreed to bring you here if I’d known.”

“Dude. I can take care of myself. Besides, she said it’s safe.” Stiles takes his phone back and scrolls through the messages, fighting a grin when he reads Braeden smarting off to Derek and calling him on his distrustful bullshit. He puts his phone away and looks at Derek. There’s a stubborn tilt to his head, and he can practically see his cheek tensing beneath his scruff. “We’re already here, Derek. We’ve spent several hours driving, and we need to know what we’re dealing with back home before more people die.”

“Fine. Stick close to me, though, and stay alert.” Derek’s gruff and still frowning, obviously unhappy with this turn of events. Stiles is actually intrigued by the idea of a sanctuary for the supernatural, and he wants to see what kinds of people visit this kind of place. He wonders if it’s like The Dal, only all kinds of creatures instead of just Fae, and it better not be some anti-human place because, hello, human here.

“Sure.” Stiles figures Derek’s too focused to notice the crossed fingers as he they get out of the car. They follow the path through the parking garage towards an open courtyard that’s hidden away from any passerby’s view. He’s got to admit that he isn’t expecting the neon, but it’s pretty cool. “Charity.”

“What?” Derek looks at him, arching a brow as he moves a step closer.

“Caritas. It’s Latin for charity. It’s a cool name.” Stiles bumps their hips. “See? It’s perfectly safe.”

“We’ll see.” Derek looks grumpy as he opens the door and steps inside before Stiles. He’s tense and walking like he expects them to be attacked. They are, but it’s not by any physical threat. It’s their hearing that’s assaulted. Some woman is ruining Brittany, singing an off-key version of Toxic.

“Yeah, this place is real dangerous,” Stiles murmurs, biting his lip to keep from laughing at Derek’s annoyed expression. When he actually starts to look around, his eyes widen. There are really demons and shit here. Not like human looking ones, either. Full on should have been in the cantina on Tatooine creatures. Holy fuck. How cool is this? “It’s a demon karaoke bar. I’m so annoyed with Braeden for not sharing this place sooner.”

“These creatures aren’t from any of those movies you watch,” Derek hisses in his ear, warm puffs of breath giving Stiles goosebumps. “Some of these things would kill you without blinking any of their eyes if they ran into you on the street. Just because they look cute, it doesn’t mean they’re harmless.”

“I, uh, wouldn’t say many of them look that cute,” he murmurs, trying to keep from forming the words too clearly in case some of them can read lips. “So, who are we meeting?”

Derek pushes through the crowd to the bar and manhandles Stiles in a decidedly not sexy (yeah, right, it’s totally sexy) way onto a stool. “Stay here, don’t move, don’t speak to anyone, and I’ll go find them.”

“Seriously? I’m supposed to be your back-up, man. Don’t you know that no one puts Baby in the corner?” Stiles tries for wide eyed hurt but it totally fails to impress Derek.

“I mean it, Stiles. Don’t move.”

Stiles makes a face behind Derek’s back before he wonders if a place like this actually abides by human laws, such as the legal drinking age. With a hopeful smile, he twists his stool seat around to face the bar. And, wow, that’s definitely not an attractive…whatever it is…manning the bar. “Beer?”

The bartender looks to his---her---its left then shakes its head. It puts a glass on the bar that it proceeds to fill with orange juice before shuffling away.

“Rude,” he mutters, looking at the orange juice and sighing.

An amused chuckle from his right has him glancing over. “Cutie pie, we still have laws to follow,” the guy says. It’s definitely a guy, wearing a very flashy suit, and he’s totally green. This is Stiles’ life now. Sipping orange juice at a supernatural bar while some demon makes fun of him. Great.

“They’re stupid laws.” Stiles can now hear a man singing the Beatles behind him, and he’s doing a much better job that Brittany Wannabe had done. “Anyway, I could show my ID. I’m legal.”

“Legal for some things, but not buying alcohol in the great state of California.” The guy is smiling as he leans against the bar. Wait. Is he trying to pick him up? Stiles isn’t entirely sure because that’s some flirty leaning and all. “We’d know if it’s a fake ID.”

“It’s just a beer, dude.” Stiles wonders if he can take advantage of the flirty thing to get a beer. He doesn’t even care about actually having one, but he knows it would piss Derek off, and he does so enjoy doing that sometimes. He leans a little himself, playing coy and licking his lips. “One little beer isn’t that bad, is it?”

The guy whistles. “Geesh, you’re a dangerous one, cutie pie.” He taps his finger against Stiles’ nose. “Fortunately, I’m good at resisting temptation. No beer for you tonight, but you’re welcome to come back after you turn twenty-one, and I’ll buy you one myself.”

“Eh, it was worth a try.” Stiles shrugs and finds himself smiling. “Would you be here when I come back?”

“Of course. I own the joint.” The guy holds out his hand. “The name’s Lorne. And you are?”

“Stiles.” Stiles shakes his hand. “You’re the owner? It’s cool. I like the name.”

“So do I.” Lorne’s smile fades slightly. “It’s named after my first place, which was down in LA. It got destroyed years ago, when you were probably a wee little lad, but I decided to reopen it when I moved up here.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Stiles takes a sip of the orange juice. “Have you lived here long?”

“Since ’04. Survived a near apocalypse, needed a change in scenery, so voila. I like this city more than Los Angeles. What about you, cutie pie? What brings you to a place like this?”

“It’s complicated.” Stiles shrugs. “We’re here for information, to help protect our town. My friend’s ex-girlfriend set us up with a couple of informants, so we drove down from Beacon Hills for a meeting.”

“Beacon Hills?” Lorne slowly nods. “I’ve heard of it. Werewolves, druids, and hunters, oh my!”

“Along with a few dozen other kinds of creatures. We’re like a magnet for shit like that.” Stiles smiles wryly. “But it’s okay. We fight the good fight, as they say. My best friend is actually the alpha, and he ensures that we protect as many people as we can from anything intending harm.”

“Reminds me of some old friends,” Lorne says, his voice taking on a reminiscent tone. “You’d best be careful or else you’ll lose yourself while trying to save everyone else.”

Stiles thinks back to the nogitsune and grimaces. “I’ve already lost myself, buddy, so that warning comes too late. But, hey, I’m still here, right?”

Lorne studies him a moment. “So young yet such an old soul. You should sing for me.” He nods towards the stage. “I’ll read your aura.”

“That sounds like a proposition,” Stiles teases. There’s something about Lorne that relaxes him, makes him feel comfortable and safe. Guess that’s why the guy runs a karaoke bar for demons. “I might just have to sing something before I leave.”

Lorne is looking over his shoulder then focuses on him. “Don’t suppose that ‘we’ you mentioned earlier included a gorgeous specimen of manhood complete with perfectly styled beard, piercing eyes, and lips that make even a nun have dirty thoughts, would it?”

“Wow. That’s a scarily accurate description of Derek. I suppose that means he’s behind me somewhere glowering and making with the threatening eyebrows of doom?” Stiles takes another drink of the orange juice.

“That would be affirmative, cutie pie. If looks could kill, I’d be filleted about now.” Lorne smiles at him. “He doesn’t appear to be happy that you’re talking to me. I don’t even need to hear that pretty boy sing to recognize jealousy and frustration.”

“Annoyance and anger are more likely.” Stiles rolls his eyes. “I was given instructions to not move or talk to anyone. He’s probably mad that I broke his little rules.”

“The sweet innocence of obliviousness is charming yet also somewhat maddening.” Lorne leans in and strokes his jaw in a way that is far too familiar considering they just met and especially when Stiles totally isn’t interested. “Your young man’s eyes just flashed and, judging by the way those nearest him are behaving, he also growled. Oh, but it’s just annoyance over a broken rule, right? I guess I shouldn’t mention suffocating on the UST between you two then?”

“Keep that up, and I won’t sing for you,” Stiles mutters, knowing better than to believe Lorne’s interpretation of Derek’s overprotectiveness. Ha. Overprotected. He could sing Brittany and show that woman from earlier how it’s done. Nah, he’s going to have to choose something newer than that. Something poppy like Tay Tay or cheesy like 1D? Oh, no. Even better. He’s got it. Derek is going to fucking kill him, but it will be worth it because it’ll be a lot of fun.

“We only just met, and I already know that grin means trouble,” Lorne says with a laugh.

Stiles turns to look at the stage, watching as a horned demon dances around to a disco song that he’s singing. “I don’t know what you mean, Lorne. I’m never trouble.”

Lorne just chuckles and shakes his head. “You can go next, if you want. Looks like your boy is about to wrap up his conversation, not that he’s paying much attention to his companions. He’s too busy staring at you.”

“It’s not like that with us,” Stiles points out. “Alas, Derek is painfully straight. Anyway, I want to get my aura read before he storms over here and drags me away, so I’ll go next.” He follows Lorne to the stage, grinning mischievously at the laugh he receives when he says what song he wants to sing.

After the final notes of the disco hit fade, Stiles takes off his flannel shirt and runs his fingers through his hair. He’s totally got this. He and the ladies from the Jungle meet up for karaoke every month, and they’ve taught him a thing or two when it comes to confidence on stage. The music starts, and he sashays onto the stage, turning to get the microphone while performing for the audience. When he starts to sing, there are a few hoots and catcalls, which just makes him perform even better.

“But I can send you into overdrive. Oh,” he sings, rolling his hips suggestively and giving it his all. He looks right at a fuming Derek when he changes the verse slightly. “You need a good boy to blow your mind, yeah.” He blows him a kiss, which earns him cheers from the audience.

Then he goes into the chorus, thrusting his hips suggestively to every ‘bang bang’ he sings. The crowd is really good, especially for a mixed bag of supernatural creatures, and just as enthusiastic for him as they were for the other performers. He’s having a lot of fun, and he actually steps down from the stage, moving his way through the tables as he sings. His hips are getting a good workout, and he even drags his hands up his chest, pulling his t-shirt up a little as he sends another deliberate look at Derek. “Just come and show me what your Momma gave, oh yeah.”

There’s actually prowling as he stalks towards Derek, not even pretending at that moment to be singing to anyone else. “You need a bad boy to blow your mind,” he purrs, licking his lips and going down towards the ground in a very deliberate way when he sings the ‘blow’ bit. Then he’s turning away and grinning at the audience, back to the rolling hips and dancing on the chorus.

The only time he flubs a bit is the whole fast rap bit, since he doesn’t remember all of it that well. He definitely gets the hanging and banging, and he can’t resist a wink and suggestive movement with the mic when he sings the karaoke line. When it’s finally all over, he’s back on stage, face flushed, hair damp with sweat, and a huge smile on his face. “Fuck, that was fun,” he says into the mic before heading off stage to where Lorne is waiting.

“Trouble with a capital T-R-O-U-B-L-E,” Lorne mutters, shaking his head. “This is a polite establishment, cutie pie. Not a strip club.” He fans himself and laughs. “Your boy is headed this way, and he definitely doesn’t look happy.”

“Whatever. I had fun, even if a few of them are handsy.” Stiles grins as he runs his fingers through his hair. “So, my aura, kind sir?”

“Stop being blind, and you’ll get what you want most.” Lorne kisses his forehead with a loud smack. “Also, your problem back home? It’s a succubus, but there’s something clouding her, almost like she’s turned feral. She’s savage and is going to need to be put down, I’m afraid. You’ll be able to find her near a train track, if that makes any sense to you.”

“Wait, what? Really? I was right?” Stiles feels a hand on his shoulder, gripping tight and turning him around to face a very unhappy Derek. “I was right! It _is_ a succubus.”

“What? How did you know already?” Derek shakes his head. “Nevermind. What was that?”

“Karaoke. It’s fun. You should try it sometime.” Stiles smirks. “I can’t believe I was right, and it took us coming all the way to San Francisco for you to even listen to me. Lorne says she’s by train tracks, so I bet she’s hiding out at the old station.”

“We’re leaving. I can’t believe you, Stiles. You’re human, in case you forgot, and now there are a dozen creatures over there wanting to snatch you up and take you home with them.” Derek’s jaw is tense, and his eyes have a slightly blue tinge like he’s righting his wolf right now. Damn, he’s so hot that it’s unfair. 

“I highly doubt anyone is going to try snatching my scrawny human ass,” Stiles points out. “You’re overreacting.”

“There’s a vampire who was sitting near me talking about grabbing you when you leave. I’m not overreacting to anything. I could smell them, too. What the hell were you thinking?” Derek grabs his shirt from Lorne’s hands and shoves it against Stiles’ chest. “Put this back on and say goodbye to your new little friend. We have to get home.”

Stiles looks at Lorne and smiles wryly. “I guess I did get a little carried away, huh? I still had fun. It was nice meeting you, Lorne. I’ll definitely be back for that drink after my next birthday, if not sooner,” he promises.

“Cutie pie, you’re welcome any time, but your guard dog is right. I’m sensing some unease from a few select members of the crowd.” Lorne kisses each of his cheeks. “Have fun tonight, kids.” He waves his fingers at a glaring Derek before walking away.

“I like this bar,” Stiles says as Derek grabs his arm and pulls him out of the place. Man, this is bad. Derek isn’t even talking. Maybe he finally went too far? “Can you slow down? No one is following us out of there. I think my virtue is safe.”

“Don’t speak to me right now. You only had two instructions. Stay at the bar and don’t speak to anyone. You couldn’t even follow those two simple rules.”

“Actually, three. You also said don’t move.” Stiles bites his lip. “Um, forget that. Never mind. It was just two rules.”

“Get in the car, Stiles.” Derek finally lets his arm go and glares at him until he gets into the car. Then Derek slides in, the tires making a sound as he pulls out and heads towards the exit. When they’re back on the road, he seems to relax, a little, but there’s still a lot of tension and weirdness, so Stiles actually listens for once and keeps his mouth shut.

They drive in uncomfortable silence, not even the noise of the radio to distract him after Derek angrily turns it off. They spent more time at the bar than originally planned, which means it’s later than he expects by the time they’re finally leaving San Francisco’s outskirts behind. He turns on his phone and scrolls through Snapchat and Twitter before he gets a notification about someone wanting to friend him on Facebook. He grins slightly when he sees that it’s Lorne, whose profile pic is a martini glass with a microphone beside it. He accepts and is glad that at least something good came out of tonight.

Unfortunately, his phone is close to being dead sooner rather than later, so he can’t spend too much time on it. He didn’t think to bring his charger because they left pretty quickly. About an hour into the drive, he’s had enough. “Did you find out any useful details from the informants?”

“Not much,” Derek says. “Succubus, has been to three other cities doing the same thing, even her own kind is after her because most of them apparently to a consensual thing without the death involved these days. They didn’t mention train tracks.”

“Great sex in exchange for a bit of life force, huh? I could see the appeal.” Stiles shrugs when Derek glares at him. “What? I’m twenty, single, and I’ve only had my hand for company since Malia and I broke up, which was years ago. Don’t judge, dude.”

“You know what? I can’t do this tonight.” Derek changes lanes and takes the next exit. “I’m tired, and I need out of this car. We’re stopping for the night, and we’ll go home in the morning.”

“I can drive, if you want. I’m pretty wired.” Stiles just receives a growl for his offer, so he guesses that’s a no. Getting his phone back out, he sends his dad a quick text telling him they’re stopping for the night then forwards the same text to Scott, adding a brief gleeful note about being right so take that ha!

“We’re stopping.” Derek’s nostrils are flaring, and his grip on the steering wheel is so tight that Stiles is surprised it hasn’t snapped off. Of course, the closest exit when he made his decision is for some town too small to have a main street. There’s only one old looking roadside motel and the parking lot is full. Fortunately, there’s still a vacancy according to the flashing sign that’s missing the second A and Y. Derek looks at it for a moment before shaking his head. “Stay here.”

“Sir, yes, sir.” Stiles salutes him, twisting his hand at the end to flip him off. Derek doesn’t get to see his response because he’s already stalking towards the lobby. The windows of the lobby are either dirty or covered in blurry plastic because he can’t see anything except shapes moving. When Derek comes back, Stiles says, “If the hotel person introduced themselves as Norman and mentioned Mother, I’m sleeping in the car.”

“Her name was Ethel, and she talked about her cats,” Derek says dryly. “We got the last room. Only one bed, so I’ll take the floor.”

“Whatever. Not going to hear any arguments from me there since I could have driven us on home. I really hope the room’s clean.” Stiles keeps repeating that to himself as Derek pulls the car around to the back and parks. When the door to their room opens, he makes a face. “That floor is disgusting, dude.”

Derek pushes past him and stops walking, staring down at the discolored carpet and curling his lip. “That’s worse than disgusting.”

Stiles looks at the bed and approaches it cautiously. It’s a queen, and the blanket at least looks clean. He checks it for bed bugs, relieved when he doesn’t see any, and then he sits down. “Oh, but this is shockingly nice,” he says, bouncing a little. “There’s no way you can sleep on that floor, Derek. I don’t even have your wolfy senses, and I can smell how bad that stench is from here. You can share the bed with me. I promise I won’t bite.”

“I---I’m taking a shower,” Derek says in an angry tone like it is Stiles’ fault he has to take a shower. Maybe he’ll rescind the bed offer. Except he didn’t pay for the room, so Derek could very well kick him out of the bed and force him to sleep on that horrible floor so, yeah. No takesiebackies.

Since their trip wasn’t intended to be an overnighter, Stiles doesn’t have a change of clothes, a toothbrush, or anything. Good old Ethel would probably think they’re renting a room for a booty call or they’re sneaking around on their wives or something else really wicked and illicit. Stiles shakes his head and shrugs off his over shirt. He folds it up and puts it on the dresser after he checks to make sure it’s clean. The room isn’t that bad, other than the disgusting carpet and fact that it probably hasn’t been renovated since the seventies. He can hear the sound of the shower, which is really bad because it makes him think about Derek naked, which then causes his body to react to said thoughts. Bad Stiles. No cookie for you.

He pulls his t-shirt off before he unties his shoes. The socks are staying on because he has no desire to having his bare skin touch that carpet, but he goes ahead and removes his jeans, too. At least he’s wearing clean underwear, the boxer-briefs just put on that morning. He’s folding his jeans when the bathroom door opens. Derek makes an odd noise, and Stiles turns to look at him, which he so shouldn’t have done. His hair is wet, droplets of water dripping down his neck and chest, disappearing into the soft hair covering his chest. His nipples are hard from the cool air on wet skin, and Stiles almost groans. He’s only wearing underwear, a pair similar to Stiles that fit him like a second skin and leave very little to the imagination. Derek’s a big boy in more ways than one. 

“Shower’s free,” Derek says, clearing his throat when his words come out garbled at first. “I didn’t use any of the hot water.”

“Right. Okay. That’s good.” Stiles walks to the bathroom, but Derek doesn’t move. It forces him to brush against him on his way into the bathroom, and he can feel his skin flushing with warmth as he touches bare skin. He’ll be using cold water, but not out of a chivalrous gesture to his roomie for the night like Derek. When he shuts the door behind him, he takes a few deep breaths before turning on the water. He quickly strips and steps into the shower, the scent of Derek’s cologne seeming to fill the tiny stall. It’s still wet from Derek’s shower, and Stiles’ dick appreciates that notion. He starts jerking off, knowing he has to come or else he’s going to embarrass himself tonight, closing his eyes as the cold water sprays down on him. 

He thinks about Derek in here doing the same thing, so desperate for a good come that he fucks his fist with Stiles in the other room. Then he thinks about his little performance earlier, imagining it as a private show just for Derek and more of a strip tease than a karaoke performance. His breathing grows shallower as he bucks his hips forward, squeezing and stroking his cock, resting his forehead against his arm as he keeps stroking. He comes with a grunt, ropes of come spilling onto the shower wall and floor. He keeps stroking until he’s spent, then he rinses off and wipes down the wall with a washcloth before tilting his head back to let the shower spray down on his face. He opens his mouth so the water can clean his teeth somewhat before turning around to wash off his back.

After he’s more relaxed, he turns off the water and grabs a towel. He dries off quickly, pulling his underwear and socks back on before he leaves the bathroom. Derek is in the bed already, fists clenched at his side, the tops of his ears pink, and his breathing uneven. Stiles arches a brow as he walks around to the other side of the bed. “Everything okay, man?”

Derek looks up at him then, and the expression on his face is just wrecked. “I could _hear_ you, Stiles. You smell…” His eyes flash blue as he takes several deep breaths.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry. I forgot,” he admits, feeling pretty embarrassed and quickly trying to remember if he’d accidentally uttered a name when he came. He doesn’t think he did, so that’s good, at least. “Do I need to go wash up again or can you handle it?”

Derek narrows his eyes and watches him get in bed. It’s a queen, but it’s still a close fit with no way on Earth that they can sleep comfortably without touching each other. “I can handle it,” Derek says tightly, as if each word is forced out of his lips. 

“Good. I’m glad.” Stiles knows it’s going to be tough to sleep tonight. Not only does he not have _his_ pillow, but Derek’s right there, mostly naked and gorgeous and hot, both in attractiveness and body temperature. “I’m not really sleepy, but my phone is almost dead, and the only book in here is a Bible. Considering I’m an openly pansexual man who murdered people while possessed, I’m not sure I’d even be able to touch that, much less read it.”

“Do you ever shut up?” Derek growls, looking up at the ceiling and cursing under his breath.

“Hey, don’t get snippy at me, grumpy wolf,” Stiles says. “I’m not the one who asked to stop in the middle of fucking nowhere. I don’t know what got up your ass, but you really need to pull it out because you’re just being rude, and not your usual I’m a handsome werewolf look at me being perfect kind of rude, either. That’s hot, this isn’t. You really need to just---“

His tirade is stopped by Derek’s mouth. Stiles’ eyes widen as Derek grips his hair and presses their lips together. Despite the rather rough tugging on his hair, the kiss is gentle. Almost hesitant, like Derek isn’t sure it’s wanted. Stiles snaps out of his shocked stupor and reaches up to touch Derek’s face, moving his lips against Derek’s, returning the kiss. Their noses bump as Derek shifts, lips meeting again as Stiles finds himself being pushed against the bed. Derek is soon lying over him, their lips still moving together, tongues flicking out to lick as the kisses start to deepen. Stiles feels Derek’s hand on his ribcage, thumb stroking his skin as he touches Derek’s back, stroking up and down.

Despite just coming, he’s already hard again. How could he not be when he has a damp and mostly naked Derek rubbing against him and kissing him like he’s trying to memorize every detail of Stiles’ mouth? When he feels Derek’s erection press against his thigh, he gasps into the kiss. “Do you feel what you do to me, Stiles?” Derek’s voice is soft and husky. “You’re such a damn tease. Dancing around and flirting with all those people tonight. I wanted to take you right there, show them you’re mine. You drive me so crazy.”

“You should have told me, asshole. We could have been doing this years ago,” he points out, breath catching when Derek’s hard thigh presses against his cock.

“Thought you knew.” Derek sniffs his neck before brushing wet kisses against it. He moves his hands behind Stiles, gripping his ass as he pulls him closer, grinding against him. It feels so damn good, and Stiles hooks his leg around Derek’s to get a better angle. “And weren’t interested.”

“I didn’t.” Stiles likes the way his skin feels after Derek rubs his beard across it. It’s going to leave marks, which might be one reason he likes it so much. “I am. So fucking interested. Have been. You’re stupid.”

“So’re you. Fuck, you feel good. Smell good. Taste so good.” Derek kisses him again, tongues curling together as their bodies keep moving. Stiles is rolling his hips, Derek’s fingers gripping his ass as they both seek the friction they desperately need. He reaches between them, shoving damp cotton out of the way, long fingers wrapping around firm flesh. Derek makes a sound that he wants to hear over and over again, desperate and needy.

The angle is horrible, his wrist not able to move well at all, but it doesn’t matter. He’s finally got his hand on Derek’s dick, and it’s fucking awesome. Derek is making those noises again, bucking against him, burying his face against Stiles’ neck as he fucks into his fist and grinds against him. “That’s it. Come for me, Derek. Let me feel you come,” he urges, rubbing his fist against his own erection on every jerk downward.

Derek’s breath catches and there’s a low groan before he’s coming, seed spilling onto Stiles’ hand and their underwear. He raises his head and looks down at Stiles, a soft smile on his face as he keeps rolling his hips even though he’s spent. “Your turn. I want you to come, want to feel it against my cock, against my hand.”

“Keep doing that,” Stiles demands when Derek starts stroking him with just the right amount of pressure, moving his hands up and holding into Derek. He smears come all over Derek’s hip and chest, some of it getting in his chest hair, and he smears it more when he notices it because it’s turning him on to see Derek so wrecked and gorgeous. Derek leans down to kiss him again, a possessive kiss that _owns_ him, and he jerks up because the friction is perfect and the kiss is perfect and they’re not being stupid anymore so the world is fucking perfect, too.

When he comes, Derek breaks the kiss and just stares at him, watching his O face, which is decidedly not hot if Malia’s impression had been even remotely accurate. Derek is jerking him slower now, milking all of the come out of his cock, still staring at him intently. Stiles actually whines, he’s not ashamed to admit it, when Derek raises his wet hand to his mouth and licks Stiles’ come off his fingers. He has to kiss him after that, leaning up to suck on Derek’s tongue as his hips continue to push up for more contact.

They’re both a mess by the time they finally calm down. Stiles snorts as he leans down to lick some of Derek’s come off his chest, hair getting in his mouth as he licks at the chest hair. Derek laughs softly as he pushes their underwear down, fortunately remembering not to throw anything on that dirty carpet. They have to wear that underwear tomorrow, crusty or not, but the carpet would probably infect the material with nasty stuff. Eh, maybe he’ll just commando tomorrow.

“I hope you plan for this to happen a lot more times because you’re stuck with me now,” he tells Derek, lips curved into a sated smile as he snuggles against the pillows.

“I guess I can handle that,” Derek grumbles, rolling off Stiles and getting comfortable beside him. He moves his arm around Stiles’ waist and tugs him closer before pulling the cover over their naked bodies. “You’re right. The bed’s comfy regardless of how horrible the floor smells.”

“I’m right about a lot of things, dude.” Stiles is touching him because he actually has the freedom to do so, and it’s already been established that he’s not stupid, except when it comes to reading I want to fuck you and date you signals from gorgeous werewolves, so he’s taking advantage of that freedom. “I was right about the succubus, wasn’t I?”

“We’re never hearing the end of that, are we?” Derek sighs as he draws circles on Stiles’ hip.

“Nope. But, hey, I’m glad none of you listened to me. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have had to take this trip, and it probably would have been another few years before we ended up like this. Remind me to send Brae a thank you card for being the best Bae ever.” Before Derek can mutter about the nickname, Stiles kisses him. He’s still not sleepy at all, and he figures he’ll be ready for round two after some more making out. 

After all, he did sing a promise at Derek to blow his mind, and Stiles always likes to keep his promises.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm accepting prompts on [Tumblr](http://inell.tumblr.com/) so drop by if you'd like to leave me some or feel like following me etc.


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